Birds of Summer
by Nikola11
Summary: Kurt's just left his alcoholic husband and, during the first week of May, moved himself and his son all the way from Ohio to Massachusetts. He's hoping to start fresh, with a new life, but the summer has a lot in store for him and his little family, and it will change and challenge him in ways he never imagined. (Klaine; M for later parts)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: May**

 **Part 1**

They'd left Lima two days ago, stopping over in Rochester, New York Sunday night before finishing the journey to their new home in Quincy, Massachusetts. Kurt Hummel's sensible SUV had been hastily packed the previous Saturday, before he and his young son spirited away in the late Sunday morning. It was luck, really, that he'd managed to find the house so quickly, that it was a good price in a decent neighborhood, close to his publisher and far, far away from Ohio. And so it came to pass that within two months his divorce from his husband was finalized, he'd moved himself and his son back into his childhood home, he'd launched a brand new book in his ongoing series, and he'd bought a house on the east coast.

And before he was quite ready for it, he'd pulled into the drive at 190 Everett Street.

Weary, Kurt killed the engine and tumbled out from the car, stretching out his back and legs before he popped open the back door and began wrestling his sleeping four-year-old from the booster seat, who woke up disoriented and fussy.

"Where are we?" the child demanded, slumped in his father's arms and glancing glumly around the neighborhood, trees and grass lit up golden in the late-afternoon sun.

"We're at our new home, buddy," Kurt reminded him, grabbing his keys and locking the car.

He walked them both to the front door, admiring the wrap-around porch as he fingered the shiny new house key out from the others on his chain, and unlocked it. Inside the front hall, he set his son down so that they could both wander the empty rooms together, exploring first the front living room and den, which had an attached half-bath, then following the hall down to the kitchen and another small common room, which was preceded by french doors and contained a large bay window with a wide seat built in. Upstairs, three bedrooms and two bathrooms, with a small alcove on the landing that had a window all its own and room enough for a comfy chair next to a small bookcase.

"What do you think, River? Which room do you want?" Kurt gestured to the two bedrooms facing the front of the house, both of which had two large windows and plenty of closet space.

River shuffled into the room on the right, which had the living room directly beneath it, and nodded in approval.

"Alright," Kurt sighed, more than exhausted but still with so much to do. "Let's get the car unpacked, and then we need to get some food."

He hadn't been able to bring much. His husband kept almost all the furniture they'd had in their condo, except for River's bedroom set and the two end tables from their sitting room, and his SUV could only hold so much. With little time to prepare, he'd managed to pack all of his and River's clothes, as well as their pillows and sleeping bags, and whatever else they'd need to survive the first week. Kurt's father would be hauling up the furniture in his truck, and Kurt's best friend had offered to lend his large Lincoln Navigator to the cause, as well, toting everything else that hadn't been able to fit into the SUV or truck.

But they wouldn't be arriving until Saturday, so Kurt and River had to make do until then with their sleeping bags and blankets on the floors of their bedrooms. Still, it felt good bringing things into their new home, and he helped River hang up some of his clothes in the closet and spread out the blankets and pillows into a little nest in the corner of the room near a window. Afterwards, they piled back in the car after Kurt had looked up nearby grocery stores and restaurants, driving them for some quick dinner and then to stock up on fridge- and pantry- essentials that didn't require pans or other kitchen equipment to make, as all of his were currently in the back of his friend's car in Ohio.

Though it wasn't late when they got back, Kurt had only enough energy to bathe his son before he and River snuggled down in Kurt's sleeping bag for a long rest.

* * *

The next morning after breakfast, Kurt drove them both to the Ikea down in Stoughton to pick out some new bedroom furniture for himself and to choose a new dining table and chairs that would fill the space between the kitchen and back common room that Kurt had decided would be River's playroom.

"I think it'll be nice," Kurt mused aloud to River as he ran his hands along the rich, dark wood of a footboard he'd been contemplating, "if we set up your gym equipment in there, don't you think?"

River nodded, holding tightly to his father's hand as he was jostled by a passing group. "Is there space for my bar, too?" he asked.

"Of course, buddy, we can put it all in there once grandpa brings it up this weekend."

Kurt gently guided his son back to the main walkway after noting down the names of the bedframe, dresser, and nightstands he'd decided on, looking around for where to find the dining sets next. He'd ordered a new mattress online earlier that morning, so at least he didn't have to worry about that, too.

"And we're going to find a new gym, too, right?" River asked, pointing his father to the right where he could see kitchen displays.

Kurt smiled, following his son across the large room to the pristine sets made to look like home kitchens and dining rooms. "Absolutely. I've already looked up one that's close, and we can check it out tomorrow, okay?"

Satisfied, River went along patiently through the rest of the store and down to the warehouse, where he watched his dad heave several large boxes onto a long, flat dolly that they eventually rolled out to their car. It took some imagination and finagling to get all of the furniture pieces into the SUV (River's booster had to be temporarily moved to the passenger side so that the mid and back seats could be folded down flat) but before long the two sat amid piles of wood and hardware in Kurt's large master bedroom, slowly putting together Kurt's new bed, building the first piece of their new life.

As promised, Kurt took River up to Boston proper the next afternoon after spending the morning on the phone with the manager at a gym near Mission Hill that had wonderful reviews and was willing to meet with them on such short notice. At nearly forty minutes away it wasn't the most practical choice, but Kurt believed that investing in his child's interests was in both their best interests, and gymnastics just so happened to be an interest of his, as well. He'd been on his private high school's team all four years, and continued to go to the gym regularly for recreation, especially as his marriage started to break down. He began taking River as soon as the kid could walk, and his son grew to love the sport as much as he did.

Pulling into the half-filled parking lot, Kurt noticed that gym didn't look like much from the outside. Still, the two walked in with open minds, and weren't disappointed when they saw the large, open interior lined with bright orange and blue mats and gleaming equipment. Skirting the edge of the active floor, Kurt found the offices and located the man he'd been speaking with on the phone earlier, who shook his hand happily and promptly gave them a complete rundown of what the gym offered, when, and to whom. By the end of the hour, Kurt had enrolled River in a class and gotten himself a subscription that allowed him to use the gym ten times a month whenever he wanted during the times set aside for adult recreational members.

Leaving the office, the manager offered to let River join a group practicing on the floor for the last twenty minutes of their session, explaining that it was the same class he'd just been enrolled in and would enter officially the next day. With his father's approval, River kicked off his shoes and ran with the manager over to the group while Kurt, shoes in hand, located an area of raised, bleacher-like seating along the side of the gym near the front, where it seemed the parents were allowed to sit and observe the classes. Though there were lots of empty spaces, he wanted to be easily seen by his son, so he chose a seat in the first row a few feet along from where a man about his age was reading a thick novel and waved at River, who waved enthusiastically back.

He watched River tumble for a while, the small group of kids taking it in turns to practice a new move under the supervision of their coach, then pulled out his phone to while away the last ten minutes or so. When a loud whistle blew, he looked up to see the children dispersing to their parents at the bleachers, or running outside to greet their rides home.

"Did you have fun?" he asked as his son, red-faced and beaming, sat beside him and pulled his shoes back on.

"Yeah. Coach Cooper said I have real talent," River boasted a bit, letting Kurt tie his laces for efficiency's sake.

As they stood to leave, Kurt noticed the man he'd sat near helping a little boy with thick, curly black hair and a round face into a light jacket, but then River pulled his hand and he turned away before he could notice anything else.

* * *

River's class didn't meet on Thursdays, so they spent the day quietly at home together, River alternating between coloring in his books and watching movies on Kurt's tablet, and Kurt working on new content for the online educational program he wrote for. They were on their third year running, and had expanded their repertoire to include full, free courses for middle and high school students covering a range of subjects. Kurt wrote for their series on American and world history, putting together lists of topics and providing material on each topic that would be presented by the on-camera hosts. Currently he was working with the producers about creating segments for younger students, hoping to expand their reach to kids his son's age. When not writing for the internet series, he continued to work on his best-selling historical fiction series that had just released its third installment.

Friday morning Kurt received a call from his father, who was getting ready to make the drive from Lima to Quincy alongside Wes, Kurt's best friend from high school. The two would make the trip in two parts, and wouldn't arrive until the next afternoon, but Kurt was still excited to know that soon he would in the company of his main support system again. In the meantime, they would spend the morning at River's first full session at the new gym.

"Ready to go?" Kurt asked, shoving two bananas and some crackers into the little bag he'd packed for River to hold his extra gym clothes, just in case, and his water bottle. The class would last two hours, and Kurt knew from experience that the little boy would be hungry afterwards and would need something to snack on during the long ride home.

"Yes!" River shouted, bouncing happily in the hallway, waiting for his dad to finish in the kitchen so they could leave. Kurt handed the small backpack to his son, then grabbed his own, bulky backpack full of notebooks and his laptop, so that he could get some work done while River was tumbling.

At the Anderson Acrobatics Center, Kurt and River met briefly with River's coach, a man who introduced himself simply as "Cooper", and were shown the locker room at the back where River could change clothes if he needed to, and could store his things during the session. With his kid all set and ready, Kurt found his way back to the seating area again, this time finding a series of small two-person tables set up to the side. He grabbed one and spread out, settling in to wait. As he pulled out his laptop, he saw the man he'd sat near on Wednesday entering the gym with the small, black-haired boy he remembered coming up to the man after class. He could see them both more clearly, and noted how similar the two looked, with curly, unkempt dark hair and gentle faces on the pair of them. Kurt smiled as the little boy ran joyously onto the floor to join River and the other children in the class, before turning to his papers and getting to work.

* * *

The next afternoon, at the sound of the doorbell, Kurt excitedly ran down the hall and opened the front door to greet his father, who seemed tired after the long drive but happy to see his son and grandson.

"Where's Wes?" Kurt asked, peering over his dad's shoulder as they hugged in greeting.

Burt Hummel let go of his grown son and smiled, scooping River up from the floor and slinging him over a broad shoulder as he stepped fully into the house. "He'll be another thirty minutes or so; he got to a bit of a late start this morning."

Kurt nodded in understanding, ushering the little group through the house and to the kitchen, where he fixed a quick snack for his dad and they spent a few quiet minutes just enjoying each others' company. With the daylight fading, though, they decided it would be best to start unloading the overstuffed truck, and so they all trooped outside to begin the long process of hauling heavy furniture into the house.

True to Burt's word, they'd only managed to get the two end tables and a dresser inside before Wes' enormous Navigator slid to a stop along the curb behind the truck and a tall, handsome man in designer sunglasses vacated the driver's seat.

River got to him first, laughing happily as he was swung into the air and then caught up in a bear hug.

"How are you doing, buddy?" Wes asked, grinning as he carried the boy across the small front garden to the porch.

"I'm good, Uncle Wes," River said as he was set down on the deck. "I had my first gymnastics class yesterday."

"You did?" Wes feigned surprise, having been in touch with Kurt all week, as Kurt came up to him and offered a hug in greeting, which he gladly accepted. "I bet it was loads of fun."

River nodded and then wandered off towards his grandfather, who was now taking large boxes out of the bed of his truck and lining them up in the grass.

"Come on, you," Kurt said, leading Wes back to the cars. "Let's get his bedroom and playroom all set up, then I'll order us some dinner."

It only took a couple of hours with the three of them, and River was happily installed in his new playroom, where he had several pieces of home gymnastics equipment set up so he could practice whenever he wanted. His bedroom was put together, as well, and as Kurt's new mattress had been delivered that morning, both were excited to sleep in proper beds for the first time in their new home.

"Looks good, kid," Burt said, nodding around at the clean, but still sparsely furnished, home. "You feeling okay about this?"

"Absolutely," Kurt affirmed, piling up the paper plates they'd eaten their dinner off of and throwing them away, before moving to open a box of miscellaneous kitchen items and beginning to sort them into various drawers and cabinets. He could hear Wes and River in the playroom across from the kitchen, chatting noisily and tumbling around on the mats.

"I feel like I can breathe here," he continued, contemplating his cupboard space, trying to decide which one should house his pots. "It's a little lonely right now, but I'm sure it won't be long before we meet some new people and really start to fit in."

Burt came up to help him, loading various spatulas into drawer as instructed to by his son. "And the new gym is working out? River seemed very excited."

Kurt laughed, nudging his father over so he could stack plates in an overhead cabinet. "He loves it," Kurt confirmed, "and so do I. His coach is really nice, the whole gym is gorgeous, and they have blocks set aside two days a week for adult recreational practice. I've signed myself up for some of those, but I'm going to need to hunt down a babysitter before I can take advantage of it."

A quiet came over the kitchen for a little while, and it wasn't until all the boxes had been emptied and broken down for recycling that Burt turned again to his son.

"I'm glad you did this," he admitted, watching Kurt fiddle with a dishtowel. "I'm glad you did what you needed to do to make yourself and your boy happy. I'm so proud of you."

They hugged again, each of them a little overcome at the enormous change that the both of them were going through: Burt having his son and grandson so far away, and Kurt uprooting his life to start fresh somewhere else. It would take some getting used to, but they both knew that it was the right thing.

Burt and Wes stayed the weekend, Burt taking Kurt's bed and Wes sleeping on the floor in the living room while Kurt shared with River. They all went sofa shopping and helped Kurt pick out a television and some small, decorative items for around the house. On Monday morning Burt and Wes left to drive back to Ohio, leaving Kurt and River to enter fully their brand new life on the east coast.

 **Part 2**

Just after Burt and Wes embarked on their long drive home, Kurt bundled River into the car for their Monday morning gymnastics class. Once again, Kurt set up his writing materials at one of the small tables and periodically looked up to watch River as he took his turn with the coach or practiced a skill independently.

About halfway through the session, Kurt closed his laptop and stood to stretch a bit, working out a spot of tension in his lower back from sitting hunched over for so long. He stood, arms crossed loosely over his chest, and watched as River successfully completed a series of rolls and cartwheels on the floor, waving enthusiastically when River spotted him watching and beamed. As Kurt moved to sit down and get back to work, he noticed the man with curly dark hair glancing between himself and River curiously, and when the two caught eyes, Kurt raised an eyebrow in question. The man seemed startled for a moment, but then he gently closed his book, rose, and walked over to Kurt's table.

"Hi," he said, reaching out a hand to shake in introduction. "My name's Blaine. Are you new here?"

Kurt shook his hand gently and then motioned to the seat opposite him, which Blaine took. "Kurt. And yes, we just moved to Quincy last week."

Blaine smiled and looked around at the class, now lined up doing stretching exercises on the central mats. "Is that your boy? With the wavy hair?"

Kurt nodded, noting how River's loose, large curls had gone somewhat bushy after an hour of activity. "Yes, that's River."

"Mine's just next to him. Jude. In the bright red shorts"

Kurt hummed, amused at the friendly man in front of him, and began clearing up some of the papers he'd scattered over the table so that Blaine would have space to set down his book.

"How long has he been doing gymnastics? If he's level 2, you must have started him early," Blaine observed a little hesitantly, like he was afraid his question was going too far.

"I didn't start him at all," Kurt corrected. "I just always took him to the gym with me, and he did the rest. He's been going since he was two."

With a pleased smile, Blaine said, "Jude, as well. My brother's the coach," he pointed to the tall, classically handsome man who was now leading the small group in a round of sit-ups, "so we've just sort of always been here."

"Are you a gymnast, as well?" Kurt asked. "In my experience, it tends to run in families."

Blaine chuckled. "I dabble," he admitted. "But just for fun. I don't usually manage to find more than a few hours a week for it, though. What with work and the kid thing, a lot of my time just gets filled right up."

Kurt nodded in understanding. "Yeah, that'll do it," he agreed. "What are you reading?"

Blaine nudged the book he'd set down across the table, and Kurt was surprised to see the cover of his most recent release.

"Have you read these?" Blaine asked, leaning forward. "This is the third in a series, and it's pretty good. Plus, you have the same first name as the author."

Kurt chuckled, pushing the book back to the other man. "I should read it just because we share a name?"

With a bashful shrug, Blaine fiddled with the corner of the book's cover. "Well, you don't have to. I just find them a nice change of pace when I've got a little quiet time at work."

Kurt nodded in understanding. "Can I ask what you do?"

"I've actually just been made a full-time specialist on the Pediatric Neurology Team at Boston Children's," Blaine said a little hesitantly, though a small, proud smile lingered on his face.

Eyebrows raised, Kurt regarded the man sitting across from him. "Impressive. And not what I expected. I thought you'd be an artist or something."

"What gave that impression?" Blaine asked, frowning down at himself, observing his attire for any smudges or other indicators of an ill-groomed man. He and Jude had busted out the finger paints that morning, but he was certain he'd cleaned up thoroughly…

Kurt raised one shoulder in a shrug. "Nothing, really, it was just a thought."

"Well, what do you do, then?" Blaine squinted at Kurt's clothing and then the small stack of papers on top of the closed laptop. "Teacher?"

"Close," Kurt prompted. "Sort of. I'm a writer. I've done a few books, but my 'real job' is putting together content for an non-profit online education collective."

With scrunched nose, Blaine asked, "What do you mean, an 'online education collective'?"

"We create accessible courses that follow school curricula, but are more engaging and utilize more sensory modalities than a typical in-school lecturer could manage," Kurt explained.

Blaine's face relaxed and he nodded contemplatively. "So you are a teacher. Sort of." They laughed for a moment, before Blaine remembered something else Kurt had said.

"And those 'few books'?"

With another little laugh, Kurt indicated at the paperback still sitting on the table. "Bit of a lucky coincidence, that."

Blaine gasped and then grinned. "You're joking with me right now, aren't you?"

Shaking his head in amusement, Kurt obligingly pulled his wallet from his pocket and withdrew his driver's license, showing it briefly to Blaine, who laughed again in disbelief.

"I probably wouldn't have come over here if I'd known," Blaine admitted. "But somehow you've managed to avoid ever having your face associated with your books."

Kurt hummed a little smugly, raising his nose just high enough to come off as vaguely haughty. "I have a very good PR team, and with three best-sellers, they're very understanding of my want for privacy."

Blaine smirked. "Meaning you're bringing in the big bucks and so they don't really have a choice?"

At that Kurt laughed and his face relaxed into a more humble expression. "I mean, technically, yes. But my publishers really are very understanding. They took a chance with my first book, when I denied wanting to do any press for it, and I'm very grateful for that. I get to do what I love, and me and my son get to live a normal life."

"Don't worry," Blaine assured, placing his right hand over his heart, "your secret's perfectly safe with me."

"Of course it is," Kurt agreed. "Because if it ever gets out, I know where to send my lawyers," he said, flipping nonchalantly through some of the topmost papers on his stack.

"Are you serious?" Blaine asked, wide-eyed and taken aback.

Kurt snorted. "No, I'm not," he said. "Honestly, I only told you because you seemed trustworthy. I'd appreciate my privacy being respected."

Blaine looked almost offended. "I would never violate your privacy, Kurt," he said in a low voice, his eyebrows drawn down tight in upset at the very idea.

Quickly, Kurt shook his head, leaning forward into the table and trying to catch Blaine's avoidant gaze. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," he said a little desperately. "You have to understand, it's not just me." He looked over at the small pack of tumblers taking turns hanging off of the parallel bars, watching his son talking at Blaine's, who looked more than a little confused. Kurt smiled, knowing how River can get going a mile a minute with his conversations; they weren't always easy to follow, and the boy, Jude, seemed to have gotten lost a while back.

"Of course I understand," Blaine said softly, and Kurt saw that he'd twisted in his seat to watch their two boys, as well, an achingly fond smile on his face as he watched Jude take his turn.

"Thank you," Kurt said, prompting Blaine to turn back around and nod his acknowledgement.

The two spent the rest of the session in comfortable silence, Kurt putting together materials for the next installment of his web series on Modern World History, and Blaine devouring a few more chapters in the novel he'd brought.

It wasn't long before the whistle blew and the class dispersed, running to their caregivers in the stands or outside. Blaine closed his book and waved to get the attention of his son, while Kurt began packing up his backpack, winding his laptop charger around his fingers and motioning for River to come over, as well.

"Hey, buddy," he called as River approached, happy and a little sweaty. "Good class?"

River nodded and began to babble, but Kurt's attention wandered off to the side, where he noticed Blaine greeting his own son in total silence. Jude said nothing, simply ran up to his father and tugged excitedly on his shirt, while Blaine grinned and smoothed back Jude's damp curls. It became clear the next moment, this silent ritual, when Blaine kneeled down and withdrew two hearing aids from his back pocket, helping Jude to affix them over his ears.

Having noticed his father's lack of attention, River looked around to see what had distracted him.

"Oh, that's Jude," River explained. "He's in my class. He doesn't talk."

Blaine obviously heard and smiled over at River as Kurt flushed a little and began to stammer.

"Hey, it's fine," Blaine assured him, before turning to face River while still kneeling. "Do you know what it means to be deaf?" He asked the little boy.

River shook his head and immediately became shy, trying to hide behind Kurt's legs. He was fine with kids his own age, but usually took a little time to warm up to adults.

"It means he can't hear," Blaine explained, giving Jude a little squeeze around the middle. "And instead of speaking, he talks like this." Blaine turned Jude to face and made a series of complicated motions, to which Jude responded with a short gesture.

"What did he say?" River asked curiously, coming out from behind Kurt.

Blaine replied, "I asked him if he'd show you how to say something in sign language. Would that be okay?"

River nodded and waited patiently for Jude to approach him, smiling, and begin to slowly instruct him on a few simple signs, with Blaine translating as they went.

"My," he said, as Jude motioned for River to place his open palm on his chest. "Name," he continued, as Jude extended two fingers of each hand and tapped them lightly together, waiting for River to do the same. Then Jude patiently took the other boy through each letter of his name, grinning when River fumbled his fingers or needed a little help, but River, determined, finally managed to fingerspell his own name correctly. "Is River," Blaine concluded, as River stood there looking proud of himself.

"That's so cool," the little boy exclaimed, shyness forgotten. "Can you teach me more?"

Kurt intervened before Blaine could answer. "We should probably let them get on with their day, buddy. Besides, I need to get you home and feed you."

As if only just remembering, River startled and turned to his father. "I'm so hungry!"

Anticipating this, Kurt handed his son a packet of coconut snacks, as well as a banana from his bag.

Smiling, Blaine finally stood and held out his hand to Kurt. "It was lovely meeting you, Kurt Hummel."

"You as well, Blaine…?" Kurt returned, grasping the offered hand tightly.

"Anderson," Blaine supplied as they released hands.

Kurt squinted at him thoughtfully, as River held out the packet of snacks to Jude, who happily took some. "As in, 'Anderson Acrobatics Center'?" he guessed, motioning to the now almost-empty gym.

"The very same," Blaine grinned, before turning to Jude and signing to him briefly, then grabbing up his book and Jude's bag and making to leave the gym.

"Your brother's not just the coach, is he?" Kurt surmised, helping River peel his banana and watching Blaine spin to walk backwards for a moment.

"See you Wednesday?" he called, grinning cheekily.

Kurt nodded. "See you Wednesday."

* * *

As promised, Wednesday found both Kurt and Blaine seated at the little table while River, Jude, and the other four boys in their class warmed up. Though they both had brought work to do during the two hour session, it had largely been abandoned as the two kept distracting each other with conversation until they had given up entirely the pretense that they were getting anything done.

"So, how is it that you're able to be here three times a week?" Kurt asked, about forty minutes after the class had started. "Don't they need you at the hospital?"

Blaine rested his elbow on the table and leaned his chin into his palm. "Well, there's a whole team of us, and we rotate through overlapping shifts. I'm very lucky that they were willing to work with me and Jude so that I can have Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings to spend with him."

"That's wonderful," Kurt agreed.

"It is," Blaine nodded. "It's also nice having a brother so close. He takes Jude whenever I'm working. Saves me money on childcare, and I know my kid is being taken care of by someone who loves him as much as I do."

Kurt smiled in understanding. He may not have had a brother, but Wes was as good as, and was always more than willing to take River at a moment's notice.

A few minutes passed quietly between the two as they turned to observe the class that was now jogging around the perimeter of the gym. Jude and River were keeping pace with each other at the back of the pack.

"So," Blaine spoke, breaking the silence. "I noticed the other day that you're from Ohio."

Kurt frowned, confused, before remembering that he'd shown Blaine his driver's license, which hadn't been changed over from Ohio to Massachusetts yet.

"Lima, born and raised," Kurt confirmed, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Why?"

"I spent my middle and high school years in Ohio," Blaine explained. "I went to boarding school in Westerville."

"No kidding?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Dalton?"

Blaine seemed surprised that Kurt knew about the school. "Yes. How did you know?"

"How do you think I know?" Kurt sassed. "I went there for high school."

Blaine laughed loudly, astonished at the coincidence. "Oh, my goodness. Did you board, too? Wait, how old are you? Could we have been there at the same time?"

Amused at the rapid-fire questions, Kurt responded, "I only boarded during the week, because I lived close enough to go home on the weekends. And I'm 29."

Blaine sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I'm 32. You would have been a freshman while I was a senior. How wild is that?"

Kurt nodded in agreement. "Pretty wild. Though, I don't think we ever met. And if we did, I'm sorry to say I don't remember you."

Blaine laughed again. He laughed a lot, Kurt noticed. "No, I don't think we ever met, either. I'm pretty sure I would have remembered you."

"Well, that's flattering," Kurt said with the faintest of blushes. "We must have run in completely different social groups, though, to have never met. It's not a very large school at all."

"No, it isn't," Blaine said. "I was in the glee club, the Warblers, and I did drama, too."

"I was on the gymnastics team all four years," Kurt supplied. "We competed, so I didn't have much time for anything else outside of that and schoolwork."

Blaine snapped his fingers. "You guys won your regionals competition my senior year!" he remembered. "A friend of mine was telling me about it, because he knew someone on the team. He seemed really excited about it."

Kurt shrugged. "Dalton hadn't won a regionals in over two decades. It was kind of a big deal."

"It was because of you, wasn't it?" Blaine guessed, an impish, insufferable grin on his face. "Twenty years, and then the team wins the same year you join? Seems a bit fortuitous, if you ask me."

Kurt blushed noticeably this time. He licked his lips as his gaze darted off to the side. "My horizontal bar was... _acceptable_ ," he said delicately.

Blaine snorted. "'Acceptable', my ass. Be honest, how good were you?"

Kurt sighed. He didn't feel he'd done anything special. If anything, his skills in gymnastics were mostly a testament to how often he used the sport to escape from his life outside the gym. He wasn't proud that he'd spent so much time running from his problems, even if it did make him a spectacular athlete.

"I got first in all events except rings, which I got second in," he admitted. "And it was enough to put Dalton first overall."

"Do you still practice?" Blaine asked. "I can't believe after all that you'd just stop."

Kurt shook his head. "Of course not," he said. "Actually, I was planning to come here during recreational hours tomorrow."

"You know," Blaine began hesitantly. "Cooper lets me use the gym after hours sometimes, after a late shift or at the start of a very early one. You could join me sometimes, if you ever wanted to. I put music over the loudspeakers, and it's super fun."

Kurt laughed and shook his head. "I'll keep that in mind."

They both looked at each other for one charged moment, before Kurt broke eye contact and resumed watching the class, which was performing cool-down exercises on the large floor mat. A minute later, Cooper blew his whistle and it was time to go home.

"Thanks for the company," Kurt said, re-packing his untouched work materials into his backpack.

"Of course," Blaine returned, standing and stretching just as Jude and River jogged over to them.

"Daddy, look, Jude taught me a new sign! What does this mean?" He raised his right hand, with fingers in a wide, flat spread, and touched his thumb to his forehead.

"I don't know," Kurt admitted. "Why don't you ask Mr. Anderson?" He took River by the shoulders and gently spun him around to face Blaine.

"Mr. Anderson?" River started, "What does this mean?"

"That means 'father'," Blaine replied, once again helping Jude put his hearing aids in.

"Oh, cool!" River exclaimed. Turning to Jude, he pressed his right palm to his chest, then signed 'father', and then pointed to Kurt.

Jude grinned and nodded, signing the same thing except pointing to Blaine instead of Kurt.

"Blaine," Kurt said softly. "How do you sign 'Nice to meet you'?"

Quickly, Blaine performed the signs and Kurt repeated them to Jude, who smiled even more widely and returned them.

"Can Jude come over to play?" River asked, rooting around in Kurt's bag for his after-class snack: a large apple and two oreo cookies. The whole group of them began to move towards the large, glass front doors.

Kurt shook his head. "Sorry buddy," he said, as much to River as to Blaine, who shrugged in understanding. "I've got to get some work done this afternoon."

"Maybe some other time?" Blaine asked, hopeful and earnest.

"Maybe," Kurt agreed, and the two little families parted ways at the gym entrance.

 **Part 3**

Blaine and Kurt spent the next four classes sitting together and chatting, and on the last Monday of the month, Blaine invited Kurt and River out to lunch after the boys' practice. It took some time on the internet to find a place to eat nearby that everyone would be happy with, but eventually they did, and afterwards Blaine directed them all to a play park where the boys could run around for a little bit before Cooper took Jude so Blaine could go to work.

The two of them were sitting on a park bench in the shade, ostensibly watching the boys running around on the equipment but mostly just alternating between conversation and comfortable silence.

"Can I ask something personal?" Kurt finally spoke, looking over at Blaine, who had one leg crossed idly over the other, his arms spread on the back of the bench and his head thrown back with his eyes closed, enjoying the soft, warm breeze.

"Hmm?" he hummed, rolling his head a little to the side to acknowledge that he'd heard, but his eyes didn't open.

Kurt took this as permission, and hesitantly asked, "I was just wondering how long Jude's been deaf? Was he born like that? It must have been so hard."

At that, Blaine raised his head and looked properly at Kurt for a long moment.

"No," he said, pulling his arms down from the bench and folding his hands in his lap. "He became deaf when he was eighteen months old."

Kurt gasped. "Oh. I'm so sorry."

But Blaine waved a hand lightly. "We've gotten used to it, but it was... _rough_ , for a while."

They lapsed back into silence, now tinged somber, and Kurt felt guilty for bringing it up. He tried desperately to think of something else to say that wouldn't sound crass, or too obviously like an awkward change of subject, but each moment that passed only made him more anxious about somehow saying the wrong thing.

He was saved after several excruciating minutes, when Blaine began speaking again.

"My ex-husband," he started, "was very nice at first. But then we had Jude, and he got very… distant."

Kurt felt like he was holding his breath; he was almost afraid of what Blaine was about to say.

"We lasted a year and a half," Blaine went on. "Until I had to go to California for a medical conference series. I was so worried, but he assured me that he would take care of Jude. He said he knew he wasn't pulling his weight with the parenting thing, and he promised he'd do better, that I should go and not worry."

Blaine took a deep breath before he continued, his voice small and hurt. "I was only going to be gone for four days. I called him twice a day, morning and night, and each time he said things were fine, not to worry. But then I got back, and he wasn't in the house, and Jude was in his crib, red-hot with fever and barely breathing."

Kurt shook his head in horror, his heart aching as he imagined finding River like that. It made him feel ill; he had to close his eyes for a moment.

"I ran him to the hospital," Blaine said, obviously reliving the day in his mind. "He was dehydrated, and hadn't been fed in at least a day. Most likely, he'd already had ear infections in both ears before I left, but he wasn't symptomatic. The infections got worse, and my husband… didn't do anything." Blaine paused, his face clouded and angry before it abruptly turned heartbroken. "Jude must have been screaming for _days_ , his ears were so badly infected. And by the time the antibiotics cleared it out, his middle ear on both sides were so damaged that he couldn't hear anything anymore."

Apparently finished, Blaine rested his gaze on his still-clasped hands and just breathed deeply for a little while. Kurt reached over and gently placed a hand on Blaine's knee, giving it a quick squeeze before withdrawing.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry," Kurt whispered. "Jude is a beautiful little boy, and he's lucky to have a dad who loves him as much as you do."

Blaine nodded and sniffed, wiping quickly under one eye. "Thank you."

They spent the rest of their time in the park in the quiet company of one another, until Blaine's phone alarm went off and he had to go round up his son and head home. Kurt hesitated briefly before giving Blaine a quick parting hug, turning to his car after assuring Blaine that they'd see each other on Wednesday at the gym. Blaine smiled and waved as the Hummels drove off, then got Jude into his car seat and made for home, as well.

* * *

On Wednesday, Blaine approached Kurt's table a little hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure he'd be welcome after their talk on Monday. But Kurt saw him standing there, gave a big smile and a little wave hello, and Blaine sighed in relief as he sat down and pulled out a book, like usual.

Unlike as usual, though, twenty minutes into the class, Blaine's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned, answering it quickly whilst standing to move someplace a little quieter. When he returned moments later, he had a pinched look on his face, and he started apologizing immediately.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I have to go," he explained, grabbing up his discarded novel. "One of my patients just came in, and they need some extra help."

"Oh, of course," Kurt assured him, watching as Blaine patted down his pockets for his keys, paused, then cursed and withdrew Jude's hearing aids.

"Cooper has another class after this, and I don't have anyone to watch Jude until he's done," Blaine groaned and sunk into his chair again.

Kurt bit his lip, unsure how his offer would go over in light of what he'd learned on Monday, but he offered, nonetheless. "I could take him, if you don't mind?"

Blaine looked up, hopeful, as Kurt went on.

"I could get him some lunch and bring him back here, or to that park around the corner?" The longer Blaine went without speaking, the more nervous Kurt became. "Or not, I mean, I just thought I'd offer, because I can work a little later today, it's no big deal-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted, smiling gently. "I'd appreciate it very much if you'd watch Jude for a couple of hours."

Kurt let out a breath. "Oh. Okay then. So, lunch?"

Blaine nodded. "He'd like that. I'm just gonna go fill him and Cooper in," he said, walking out to the floor and quietly getting both Jude's and Cooper's attentions, holding a quick, signed conversation. Within moments he was walking back to where Kurt still sat, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and trying to shove two twenty-dollar bills into Kurt's hands.

"For lunch, and whatever else he wants," he explained, frowning when Kurt refused the money.

"I've got him," Kurt said. "You go on and do what you need to do."

Blaine shoved his wallet away again and gathered up his things, leaving Jude's hearing aids on the table. "Cooper's class gets done at one, and he'll take Jude back to his place after."

"Then we will have lunch and be back before then," Kurt promised. He ripped a page from the back of a notebook he'd brought and scrawled his phone number across it, handing it to the other man. Blaine, in turn, tore the bit with the number off, and scribbled out two numbers in return on the blank piece.

"Mine," he gestured to the first one, "and Cooper's," to the second. "Thanks again, Kurt, I owe you big time."

Kurt shook his head. "No, you don't. See you Friday?"

"Friday," Blaine agreed, and he dashed out the door.

* * *

At the end of the boys' lesson, Cooper walked over with Jude and River to introduce himself properly.

"Cooper Anderson," he said, extending a hand.

Kurt took it firmly, replying, "Kurt Hummel," before scooping up the hearing aids from the table and handing them to Jude.

"So Blaine said you're going to watch Jude for a couple of hours while I do my next class?" Cooper asked, one hand resting possessively on Jude's head.

Kurt nodded. "I was going to take them to that little sandwich place up the road for lunch, then to the corner park if there's time, or just straight back. Here," he said, pulling out his phone and consulting the number Blaine had given him, quickly saving it to his contacts and sending a text. "That's my number."

Cooper regarded him somewhat coolly, and Kurt couldn't really blame him for being protective of his brother and nephew.

"Alright," he finally capitulated. "Class gets done at-"

"At one," Kurt interjected. "I know. We'll be back in plenty of time."

Cooper turned to Jude and knelt down, signing quickly to the boy, who responded happily. He seemed excited to spend more time with River.

"Have you got pen and paper?" Cooper asked suddenly, to which Kurt replied in the affirmative. "Because you can't sign, but Jude can read and write really well, so you shouldn't have any trouble communicating."

"Maybe he can teach us some sign," Kurt offered, and Cooper's face finally seemed to relax a little bit.

"Okay," he signed and spoke to Jude, "I'll see you soon." Then he turned back to Kurt, "Thanks for this."

Kurt smiled, "It's my pleasure. He's in good hands, I promise."

And with a final nod, Cooper went back to set up for his next group of students while Kurt ushered the kids out into the cloudy day, one small hand in each of his.

As he couldn't really converse with both of them at once, he let River ramble on about the class for the short walk up the street to the sandwich shop. He chose them a table along the side next to a large window, and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen so that he could talk with the curly-haired boy.

 _Do you know what you want to eat?_ Kurt wrote along the top of the paper, handing it to Jude.

Jude read the note and then contemplated the menu above the counter, writing down his choice so that Kurt could order it from the attendant for him after giving both boys strict instructions to stay seated. Still, as he relayed their selections to the woman at the front, he felt a tug on his shirt and looked down to see Jude holding out the paper, a wide-eyed River still sat at the table behind them. Kurt signaled to the attendant that he needed a minute, thankful that they were the only ones in line at the moment. He took took the paper and read,

 _No pickle!_

Kurt laughed, looking up at the board and noting that, indeed, Jude's sandwich came with a pickle on the side. He quickly wrote back,

 _You don't like pickles?_

To which Jude scrunched up his face and shook his head. Kurt smiled and wrote that Jude should go back to the table, which he did happily, leaving Kurt to finish ordering their food, sans pickle.

They managed to spend an hour in the little cafe, watching the sky turn from a pleasant cloudiness to a stormy gray while they ate, prompting Kurt to suggest they finish up and head back to the gym to wait out the second hour before Cooper got done teaching. Just as they approached the glass entrance to the building, the sky let down the first curtains of what would likely be a long afternoon of rain. Kurt ushered the boys inside and over to the tables again, making sure to catch Cooper's eye and give him a wave, noting the relieved look on Cooper's face as the man watched Jude sit down next to River, the piece of paper being passed rapidly between them.

River wasn't as advanced as Jude in writing, but they seemed to understand each other well enough. It wasn't long before Kurt started a learning game, where he'd write down a word or phrase and Jude would teach it to him and River in sign language. The hour passed quickly after that, and soon enough Cooper had wandered over to collect Jude for the rest of the afternoon.

"I hope he behaved himself," Cooper said to Kurt while Jude and River said goodbye.

Kurt grinned. "He was delightful," he assured Cooper.

"Thanks again, Kurt," Cooper said, beginning to steer Jude away. "See you next class."

Kurt waved goodbye, and he and River got ready to leave. Before they left the building, however, Kurt shot a quick text to Blaine.

 _Kurt: Hi, this is Kurt. Just wanted to let you know that we had a nice lunch, and that_ _Jude's with Cooper now._

It wasn't until they arrived home that Kurt got a reply from Blaine, who must have been busy at the hospital.

 _Blaine: Hi, Kurt! Cooper texted me that he picked Jude up, but I'm glad to know he had a_ _good time. Thanks again for looking after him!_

 _Kurt: My pleasure. He's a great kid._

 _Blaine: :)_

* * *

Later that night, with River sound asleep and his work done for the day, Kurt settled

against his pillows in the dim light of a single bedside lamp and considered the time. His dad was definitely in bed already, because he got up early to open the garage he owns, but he knew from experience that his best friend was likely still awake, and would be for a little while, so Kurt grabbed his phone and dialed the familiar number. It was answered almost immediately, just as Kurt suspected.

"Hey, man, what's up?" Wes's voice came clearly over the line, and Kurt could hear him continuing to type as he spoke into the phone.

"Just had a kind of rough week, needed a friendly voice," Kurt admitted, letting himself slouch down against his pillows.

Immediately, the typing on the other side of the line stopped and Kurt knew that he had Wes's full attention. "Did something happen? Are you doing okay?"

Kurt smiled, grateful for having such a good friend. "Nothing happened," Kurt assured him, "I've just been thinking a lot this week, about the move and if it's possible I could've done something earlier to prevent everything that happened. Or I've been thinking, what if it had been worse? Because it could have been so much worse," he whispered into the phone. "And I feel lucky. Isn't that dumb? I feel _lucky_ that Henry was an alcoholic, because I could see it so clearly, and I could leave before one of us got hurt."

"Kurt," Wes breathed, alarmed, "where is this coming from?"

Kurt shrugged, even though Wes couldn't see it. "I just...don't know what I'd have done with myself, you know? If he had hurt River. I could have handled him hurting me, but River…"

"But he didn't hurt River," Wes reminded him. "You got yourself and your boy out before he could, and you were so brave."

With small sniff, Kurt said, "Sometimes I don't feel very brave."

"I know," Wes said. "And that's okay."

Wes stayed on the line with him until he fell asleep, reminding him that he'd done the best thing for himself and his son, and that he was so proud of him. Towards the end of the conversation, Wes promised to fly out for a visit soon, and Kurt immediately felt his heart lighten at the prospect. He still felt very much alone in Massachusetts, and afraid, but he knew, with time, he'd find his feet.

He just needed a little help until then.


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING:** Non-descriptive allusion to rape; depicts events leading up to the incident and the aftermath, but gives no details of the act happening. Takes place in the last bit of Part 2, and the aftermath is described in the first bit of Part 3. It will be mentioned, implied, and alluded to throughout at least the next few chapters, as well. Also there's strong language here, and at least one potentially offensive insult (not used by a main character).

 **Chapter 2: June**

 **Part 1**

Kurt and River sat down to breakfast the first Monday of June finally feeling like their house was becoming their home. The new living room furniture had been delivered and installed the week before, and Kurt had gone out shopping over the weekend for rugs, picture frames, accent pillows, and other decorative sundries that he used to bring everything together into a cozy, personalized space for him and his son. He wanted to get to painting in the near future, but figured that it could wait a few weeks; most of the walls were either a beige or sickly off-white color that didn't complement the furniture he'd chosen, but he wasn't so offended by it that he needed it remedied immediately.

"When's Uncle Wes coming to visit?" River asked, holding out his plate for more food, which Kurt readily refilled.

"Friday," Kurt reminded him, beginning to wash his own dishes while his son finished up. "He'll get here around bedtime, though, so you probably won't get to see him until Saturday."

River pouted, but said nothing, instead bringing his clean plate to the sink to be washed.

"Go brush your teeth and get shoes on, we're leaving in twenty minutes," Kurt said, taking the plate and beginning to scrub. River saluted and ran up the stairs to get ready for his morning at gymnastics.

* * *

Kurt very much looked forward to his three mornings a week spent at the Anderson Acrobatics Center, even though he hadn't managed to get any legitimate work done during a class since the very first week. It always ended up that he and Blaine would spend the two hours talking, their bags abandoned at their feet and, at least for the last few sessions, cardboard cups of coffee clutched in their hands.

True to form, when Kurt and River arrived at the gym the little table was already occupied by Blaine and Jude, two coffees sitting on the shiny top while Blaine helped Jude take out his hearing aids. River ran up to them first, causing Blaine to look up, startled for a moment, then delighted as he saw Kurt walking toward them.

"Good morning," Blaine beamed, ruffling Jude's hair before motioning both boys over to the mats to join the rest of their class.

"Morning," Kurt returned, sitting opposite Blaine and raising an eyebrow at the two cups of coffee. Blaine consulted the writing on the sides of the cups, then slid one over to Kurt, pulling the other toward himself.

"Had a good weekend?" Blaine asked, leaning his elbows on the table and simply holding his hot drink, waiting for it to cool down a little bit.

Kurt let his bag drop from his shoulder to the floor next to his chair, nodding gratefully at the coffee. "Yeah," he replied, straightening his shirt. "Our house is officially free of packing boxes now. Took the last of them out to the recycling this morning."

Blaine laughed, knowing the feeling all too well. After all, he had been in a similar situation only three years prior, moving to a new city with his young son after a bad divorce, having to figure out a new life all on his own. He remembered that feeling of accomplishment, once the house was in order and he didn't feel like everything was falling down around him anymore, and of validation, that he could and would get through it alright.

"We should celebrate," Blaine decided. "Let me take you and River to lunch?"

Kurt hesitated briefly, then acquiesced. "If you insist," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I do," Blaine replied, his voice a little low and a little hinting, his eyes just a tad too big, but then the moment passed and his face cleared, a content, happy smile on his lips.

Conversation continued, and it wasn't long before the two had rearranged their chairs such that they sat next to each other, sharing a pair of earphones over Kurt's laptop listening to the _Falsettos_ revival cast recording.

"You don't even know how excited I was when I heard they were reviving this," Blaine commented after "The Thrill of First Love", smiling fondly as he reminisced. "I couldn't tell you how many times I listened to the Original Broadway Cast Recording in high school."

"Was it part of your self-identification process, or did you just enjoy it?" Kurt asked, lowering the volume just a smidge.

Blaine thought, then shrugged. "Both? Of course it's fun to listen to, until the end, at least. But it did make me think, 'What if?', you know?"

Kurt nodded. "What if you're going to be like Marvin? Pretending to be straight until you're married to a woman and have a kid, and ruining everything because you're actually miserable, but then you're just trying to be happy and continuing to ruin everything?"

Blaine chuckled, a little shocked. "Well, yes," he admitted. "It made me realize that I'm always going to have to fight for my own happiness, it was just a matter of when to start. Which was a pretty difficult thing to be thinking about at fifteen."

They lapsed into silence for a few more songs, until Blaine's phone rang and he excused himself to take the call outside. He came back right at the end of "The Chess Game", looking excited. Kurt paused the music and pulled out the earphone.

"My best friend is coming up this weekend," Blaine explained, retaking his seat. "We met when I was in seventh grade at Dalton, and he was in sixth, but his family actually live in Ohio, and he stayed there for college and work so we don't get to see much of each other."

"What brings him all the way out here, then?" Kurt asked, twisting a little in his chair to face Blaine more clearly.

Blaine tossed his phone onto the table and leaned back in his chair. "I don't know, really. Said he was visiting another friend of his, who apparently just recently moved here. Wanted to know if me and Jude would be up for a day out on Sunday to the children's museum."

"Have you been there before?" Kurt asked. "I was thinking of taking River to check it out over the summer, instead of just going between home and the gym all the time."

Blaine lit up and leaned forward. "You should come with us!" he offered, excited. "It's actually really great, with lots of hands-on exhibits, and there's this huge climbing frame that Jude loves. I'm sure River would have a blast!"

Reluctantly, Kurt shook his head. "I can't this weekend. A friend of mine is coming to stay for a few days."

With a pout, Blaine deflated and slouched in his chair a little. "Bummer. Maybe in a few weeks, then? We'll plan it ahead, make a day of it?"

"I think we'd like that, thank you," Kurt replied. "River and I are looking forward to exploring the city, and it might be easier our first time out with a guide."

Blaine grinned, picking up the earphones again and handing one side to Kurt while taking the other for himself. "It would be our pleasure," he assured, reaching over to restart the music. He settled comfortably in his chair to wait out the rest of the session, looking forward to a lunch out with his new friend.

* * *

Friday evening, with River in bed for almost an hour, Kurt got up from the couch where he'd been watching a movie on low volume to answer the quiet knock on the front door. He greeted Wes with a gripping hug and ushered him inside, taking the bag he'd brought and setting it down next to the couch while offering something to drink.

"I'm good, thanks," Wes said, but he followed Kurt to the kitchen, anyway, and stood at the counter while Kurt pulled out some of the leftovers from dinner and made up a quick plate, knowing Wes probably didn't eat before his flight. They chatted while he ate, until Wes, tired from travel, couldn't stifle his yawns anymore, so Kurt made up the couch for him, because he still hadn't furnished the third bedroom, and the two said goodnight.

In the morning, Kurt woke early and started breakfast, listening as River ran downstairs and jumped on the couch to wake Wes with a gleeful shout. Before long, both made their way to the kitchen, with River hanging off of Wes's shoulders and grins on both their faces. They spent the morning at the house, watching movies and talking, then, after lunch, they drove to South Shore Plaza to do some shopping. Wes had River pick out some toys at the Disney store, then Kurt took them to look at some nicer clothes for River, whose current wardrobe consisted mostly of athletic wear. After a round of smoothies, they wound up back at the house for board games until River's bedtime, following which Kurt and Wes settled on the couch with a cup of tea apiece.

"So, tomorrow," Wes started, flicking through the cable channels, stopping on a history program. "I'm meeting up with friend in the morning to hang out."

Kurt nodded. "That's fine. River and I will probably stay in; I'm a little behind in my work."

Wes grimaced a little, but Kurt didn't notice. "Oh. Well," he began hesitantly, "I was actually wondering if you wanted to come along?"

Kurt turned to him. "You want me and River to hang out with you and your friend? Why?"

"He was one of my best friends at Dalton, other than you," Wes explained. "You know how they like to assign new kids to older boys? Well he was the seventh grader who got paired with me when I entered sixth grade."

"And you got paired with me when I was a freshman and you were a junior," Kurt said, smiling as he remembered being terrified of the older boy at first, before he got more comfortable in the new environment.

Wes nodded. "Yeah. I always meant to introduce you two, but you both were always so busy, him with performing and you with your gymnastics. Oh! I remember telling him about how you won regionals your first year, and he was so confused because he didn't even realize Dalton had a gymnastics team."

Kurt laughed, unoffended. "Well, the team wasn't anything special until that year, was it?" he teased.

"Anyway," Wes continued, "He's got a kid about River's age, and they live up in Cambridge. I was going to take them to the Boston Children's museum, because Jude loves that place, and last time I took him, he-"

But Wes was interrupted as Kurt inhaled a bit of his tea and started to cough violently, bending his face into his knees until it subsided and he rose, a little red in the face.

"Jesus, are you okay?" Wes asked, concerned.

Kurt waved him off. "Jude?" He asked, between deep breaths. "You don't mean Jude Anderson, do you?"

Wes frowned. "Yes, how did you know?"

Breath caught at last, Kurt laughs and slumps against the back of the couch. "They go to our gym," he explained. "Jude's in River's class, and Blaine and I usually talk while we wait for them to get out."

Kurt paused, then gasped and laughed again. "He actually invited us to the museum this weekend with him and his friend, but I turned him down because you were coming to visit, and it's you who he was inviting us to go with!"

Appreciating the happenstance, Wes shook his head with a smile. "Well, do you still want to come with us? It'll be fun."

Kurt nodded happily. "Absolutely, but don't tell Blaine."

* * *

So the next morning they all three woke up excited, and had a late breakfast before making the drive into Boston to meet the Andersons at the boulders in front of the museum just after it opened. Blaine was already there, leaning casually against one of the large rocks with a backpack on and Jude in his arms, the boy resting his head against his father's shoulder. He didn't notice the small group walking up to him until they were quite close, but when he saw Kurt and River, he gave a large grin and freed one hand from under Jude to wave happily.

"Hey," he greeted them in a low voice. As Kurt drew closer to Blaine, he saw that Jude appeared to be sleeping. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Rough night," Blaine explained. "He didn't sleep well at all, but he said he still wanted to come. Do you guys mind waiting a few minutes?"

Kurt and Wes assured him that they didn't, and they all moved to the other side of the museum entrance to wander the maze while Blaine gently roused his sleeping son, who woke with a whine.

"Nightmares," Blaine explained with a grimace, noticing how Kurt had been watching Jude as he became more aware of his surroundings.

Kurt frowned. "Is he okay to be out today?"

Blaine nodded. "I asked him half a dozen times, and he kept saying he really wanted to come. He loves hanging out with River, talks about him all the time."

"Really?" Kurt asked, pleased and a little proud.

Blaine laughed, finally setting Jude on his feet as the little boy rubbed his eyes and looked around. He spotted River quickly, standing with Wes in the middle of the small maze on the pavement, and ran over to join them.

When Jude reached the two, Wes looked up and called over, "Are we going in, then?"

Kurt and Blaine nodded, and the four moved to enter the museum for what promised to be an exciting day.

And exciting, it was. They started on the first floor at the Science Playground, letting the boys explore physics with interactive exhibits that encouraged them to problem solve and think critically about what they were observing. Blaine took it one step further, coaching the children into making hypotheses and then testing them, first in the bubble room with concepts like surface tension and volume, then in the raceways area with the laws of physical motion. There was a dinosaur area, as well, and the children examined fossils, measured footprints, and even built a three-dimensional dinosaur puzzle.

Upstairs, they spent some time in the Common for some games they could all play together, then moved to the Gallery and the Art Studio for some creative expression. After cleaning the children, they checked out Peep's World, but the boys got bored quickly and wanted to move on, preferring the physical stimulation of the Kid Power room. They spent more than half an hour there, using their bodies to generate energy, lighting up signs by pedaling bikes and jumping on a light-up dance floor. As they left to head up to the final floor, Kurt made sure to point out the Our Green Trail stations and to talk with the kids about the environment, with Blaine translating next to him for Jude.

Finally, on the third floor, the children got exposed to different cultures in both the Japanese House and the Boston Black exhibits, learning how people's lives can differ not just from country to country, but even within a single city. The day ended in the Construction Zone, where all five of them set about building with the available equipment, inventing a new city and exploring construction equipment, learning what it takes to build new places.

It was nearing three in the afternoon by the time they left, and Wes suggested a late

lunch, as the kids had already devoured the snacks Blaine had brought.

"Did you have fun, then?" Kurt asked River as they settled into a large booth at a nearby restaurant.

River nodded vigorously. "I liked the science room the best!" he exclaimed.

"And why's that?" Wes asked, smiling at how happy both boys looked.

"Because Mr. Blaine made it really interesting, asking us all those questions," River explained. "Are you a scientist, Mr. Blaine?"

Blaine laughed, keeping up a running signed translation of the conversation for Jude. "Yes, I am," he replied. "I'm a doctor."

River's eyes went wide. "Doctors are scientists?"

Again, Blaine laughed. "We have to learn a lot about science so that we can figure out what's wrong with people, and then find the best way to help them."

He turned at a tug on his sleeve to watch Jude sign, _You had to go to school for a long time, didn't you?_

"I did," Blaine agreed. "It takes a very long time to learn how to be a doctor."

Jude wrinkled his nose. _I don't think I want to be a doctor. Is that okay?_

"Of course it's okay," Blaine assured him. "You have a lot of time to figure out what you want to do with your life, and I'll support whatever you decide."

Satisfied, Jude turned back to his menu and went about selecting his food.

"Today was really great," Kurt said to both Wes and Blaine. "Thanks for letting us come along."

"I'm glad it all worked out," Blaine said, giving Wes a sly look. "I'm still not over how you two are friends," he admitted.

"Just one of those things," Wes shrugged. "Small world, and all that."

Blaine nodded and smiled at Kurt, who smiled back contentedly.

 **Part 2**

On Monday, Kurt and Blaine sat, as usual, at their table in the gym, each with a cup of coffee (provided by Blaine) and a newspaper (provided by Kurt), a companionable silence surrounding them. After a while of this silence, Kurt turned the page in his paper and then promptly threw it down in disgust.

"Something wrong?" Blaine asked, peering over the edge of his still-unfolded pages.

Kurt gestured at the offending news article that had landed face-up on the table. "There's some sort of business conference in Boston this week for my ex-husband's father's company. His father never attends these things- he'd always send Henry in his place. And now I get to spend the week looking over my shoulder for my alcoholic ex."

Blaine put his paper down, concern on his face. "Does he know you're here?"

Kurt shook his head. "Of course not. I never told him where I was going, I just left."

Some more silence while Blaine appeared to be in deep thought. "If it would make you feel safer," he began, "I have a very comfortable guest room that you and River could bunk in for a few days, until the conference is over."

Kurt folded his arms, feeling somehow exposed after the generous offer, then shook his head. "I can't impose on you like that. Realistically, what are the chances of running into him? I'll just keep River and myself out of downtown Boston except for classes. He has no reason to come near a gymnastics center, anyway."

Blaine nodded, unconvinced and more than a little worried at the way Kurt kept avoiding his gaze. He couldn't help but to ask, "Are you sure?"

Kurt huffed and briefly closed his eyes. "I appreciate it, really," he said in a measured voice, finally making eye-contact. "But I don't think it would be good. For me."

Blaine's brow furrowed, causing Kurt to roll his eyes and explain. "I think we're both adult enough to acknowledge that, sometimes, we act a little less as friends and a little more like… well, _more_ ," he said delicately, to which Blaine blushed but denied nothing. "And I'm just not there, Blaine. I can't go shack up at your house because I don't want to let myself get too deep with you. At least, not right now. Not yet. I'm still getting used to just me and River, and I can't be adding you and Jude, too. No offense. Oh, goodness," he exclaimed, covering his mouth briefly with his hand, his eyes wide, before he let his hand drop to the table. "I didn't mean that to sound so harsh, I just-"

He was cut off by Blaine reaching across to squeeze his hand gently to get his attention.

"I know what you meant," Blaine assured him, releasing the hand he held. "And you're cute when you're flustered," he added with a grin and a wink.

" _Blaine_ ," Kurt admonished.

Blaine held up his hands in surrender. "Yes, I know, I know," he acquiesced. "I honestly do understand, and I just want you to be comfortable. If that means giving you space and staying friends, then that's what I'll do. Just, you know, can we still have coffee? I like coffee."

Kurt laughed and nodded, grateful that Blaine understood and didn't press the issue. "I like coffee, too," he said.

"Good," Blaine smiled, turning back to his newspaper.

After a moment of watching Blaine read, Kurt did the same.

* * *

Tuesday, Kurt kept himself and River inside all day, save for a run to the grocery store to make sure both fridge and pantry would last them through the weekend. Even though Kurt knew, logically, that the conference didn't even start until Thursday evening and that Henry was unlikely to be in town until Wednesday afternoon at the earliest, he maintained a mild state of paranoia throughout the day.

"What next?" Kurt asked, standing to stretch before removing the DVD from the player and returning it to its box. "Want to show me what you've been learning in class?

River nodded happily, and they both changed into loose athletic clothes before heading into River's home gym full of mats and equipment, including an adjustable pair of kip bars, a half-size pommel horse trainer, and a set of parallel bar trainers. It all had cost a small fortune, but really there wasn't much Kurt wouldn't do for River, and Burt and Wes had also contributed to a few of the pieces over various birthdays and Christmases. So Kurt took his son through a warm up and stretch routine on the mats that were gifted to him by his grandpa, then helped him through some easy exercises, working on his tumbling first before moving to the skills he'd been practicing the previous day in class.

Although he'd bought himself a pass to use the gym, Kurt hadn't been using it as often as he'd hoped to, mostly because he'd been behind on his work, but also because he still didn't know anyone other than Blaine who could sit River, and it didn't seem fair to ask the other man to watch his kid twice a week so he could go have fun. The few times he had gone, he'd taken River and trusted the boy to sit quietly in the bleachers for an hour, which he had done happily, occupied with coloring books and his reading primers. Still, helping River develop his skills made him yearn for the days when he got to practice six days a week, spending hours upon hours in his favorite place, building his strength and feeling invincible.

Kurt shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused back in on River, who was getting ready to work on conditioning skills he still needed to master before he could really work on the bar. As yet, all he could do was a front hip circle after having someone help him up in the first place, but working the kip drills would build the strength he needed to be able to lift himself up onto the bar in proper form.

They started on the floor with a series of holds in various positions that he would need to be able to hit on his way up to the bar, concentrating on his abs and core. Then Kurt had him do some hanging holds from the bar, first in a tuck position, then with his legs stretched out in front of him. After a quick break to do more stretching, River worked on bringing his toes up to touch the bar while hanging from it, and finally succeeded after three tries.

"You are getting really good," Kurt marvelled, making sure River drank some water and had a snack- a banana, an apple, and some grapes- after their two hours in the gym. "And you're still having fun?"

River nodded happily, a smile on his face. "I like it a lot," he said, taking another bite of fruit. "Even when it's hard, it's still fun. Plus, Jude's my friend now, and if I stop going, he'll be alone again."

"Well, if it ever stops being fun, I'm sure he'll understand," Kurt reasoned. "Besides, what about all the other kids in the class? Wouldn't they be his friends if you left?"

River shook his head. "He said he doesn't really talk with anyone else, because they can't talk with him."

"He told you that?" Kurt asked, astounded. "How?"

With a skeptical glance at his father, River said, "With sign language."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You can understand him?"

River shrugged. "Sometimes? He goes real slow, and I have to guess the words sometimes until I get them right, or Coach Cooper tells me, but I'm getting better."

And Kurt just sat there, flabbergasted, as his son showed him all the new signs he'd been learning, while Kurt, himself, despite Blaine's occasional impromptu lessons during their waits, was still struggling through conversational phrases.

"Well," Kurt cleared his throat. "Go have a shower, then we can do some reading before dinner, okay?"

"And another movie after?" River asked, stuffing his last three grapes into his mouth.

Kurt nodded. "Sure. What do you want to watch?"

"Can we watch _Tangled_?"

"We can absolutely watch _Tangled_."

* * *

On Wednesday, a frustrated Kurt slapped his book onto the little table where Blaine already sat, nearly upsetting the coffee cups. He huffed himself into his chair and dropped his bag to the ground.

"Bad morning?" Blaine guessed, handing him one of the coffee cups, which he took gratefully.

Taking a calming breath, Kurt replied, "Not _bad_ , just… inconvenient. My publisher wants to meet Friday to talk about the new book and draw up a timeline. It's likely she'll also spend the better part of an hour trying to talk me into doing publicity, which she knows I won't do, but she always tries, anyway."

"Why is that inconvenient?" Blaine asked.

"The convention center is, like, only two or three blocks away from the publishing offices," Kurt explained, frustrated. "And I asked her if it could wait until next week, but she's out of the country starting Saturday for two months, and this needs to get done before she goes."

Blaine offered him a sympathetic look. "Do you have someone to sit River?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. And I know you work Friday evenings, so I'll have to shop around, I guess, because no way am I taking River into Boston when Henry could be anywhere."

"Don't shop around," Blaine said confidently. "I do work, but Cooper will have Jude and I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking River, as well. How late will you be?"

With a shrug, Kurt answered, "She wants me there at four, and I couldn't honestly guess as to how long it will take. It could go as late as eight or nine, but I can try to be out earlier."

"Okay," Blaine nodded, digging out a piece of paper and a pen and scribbling away. "Then, here's the plan. Take River to Cooper's when you need to leave," he slid the paper across to Kurt, who saw two addresses, "and I'll pick both of them up when I'm off at eight and take them back to my place," he tapped the second address. "If you're not already done, of course."

"Are you sure Cooper will be okay with this?" Kurt asked, unsure. "He's good with River in class, but will he mind the extra kid at home?"

Blaine smiled and shook his head. "I'm sure he'll be happy to do it," Blaine assured him.

And so he was, as Kurt found out when Blaine waved his brother over after the class and filled him in.

"Absolutely," Cooper agreed. "He's a great kid, and he and Jude get along really well. "

Kurt sighed in relief. "Well, then. Excellent. Thank you."

Cooper just smiled and gave the boys high-fives before going to set up for his next group of students.

Kurt turned to River. "How does hanging out with Cooper and Jude on Friday afternoon sound?" he asked the boy, who responded with a happy squeal and clapping hands.

"See you Friday, then?" Blaine asked, in what was fast becoming an end-of-practice ritual for them.

"See you Friday."

* * *

Everything went perfectly to plan, and Kurt found himself driving into Boston shortly before four on Friday afternoon, unable to rid himself of the twisting, anxious feeling of trepidation in his gut, like his body could tell that something bad was going to happen. He tried desperately to play it off as just paranoia, lingering fear of knowing he was in the same area as someone who had become so toxic to him, and it worked for a while.

At least, until the meeting ran late and he wasn't able to leave until half-past nine.

Walking out of the building, he turned north to head for the garage a few blocks away where he'd had to leave his car; with the convention center close by and the density of restaurants, bars, and shops in the immediate area, there had been no street parking to speak of earlier that afternoon. Sighing, he took his phone out of pocket and fired a text to Blaine, letting him know that he was headed over to pick up River who, according to the other man, had fallen asleep not ten minutes prior, and was now peacefully resting with Jude upstairs.

Smiling at the thought of his sleepy son, Kurt pocketed his phone and continued to walk briskly, trying to keep under the street lights and away from darker areas of the roads, avoiding eye contact with the few small groups of pedestrians he encountered. He cringed as he passed a series of close, cramped alleyways with dumpsters at the ends of them, his stomach tightening again as the noise of the surrounding blocks seemed to swell all at once. He could hear boisterous crowds just on the other side of the buildings across the wide street, and the groups of stragglers became more frequent. Feeling horribly exposed and sweaty with anxiety, Kurt quickened his pace to a near jog- he could see the corner of the parking garage just three buildings down, his bag thumping against his hip- and then it happened.

"Oh, my _GOD_ ," Kurt heard shouted from across the street, a familiar voice that immediately pinned him where he stood and closed his throat, his hands clenching into desperate fists by his side. He turned and saw, to his horror and disgust, his very drunk ex-husband hanging off of two equally drunk young men, whom Kurt assumed were lower-level business associates Henry had brought along to keep himself entertained. All three were still dressed in their suits and jackets, probably having gone straight from the convention center to the bars.

"It's my ex- _bitch_ ," Henry growled, staggering across the street, which was unfortunately devoid of cars, and leaving his comrades holding up a light post.

Kurt was jostled by a knot of people moving by him, forcing him back against a large brick building, and just as he was mentally preparing to make the run for the garage, the throng cleared and Henry was there, one strong, filthy hand around Kurt's throat and a knee between Kurt's legs.

"You _fucking_ whore," Henry snarled, and his breath made Kurt gag. Kurt turned his face, his eyes watering, and missed the flash of intent in Henry's eyes just before a fist ploughed into his lower jaw, knocking him to his hands and knees at Henry's feet.

Blood dripped onto the sidewalk from Kurt's slack, sharply aching mouth, his eyes wide in sudden terror, but unable to move with fear. Somewhere in his mind Kurt was cognizant of the last few bystanders, but as Henry hauled him back up and against the wall, he saw them hurrying away, taking his hope with them. Even Henry's cronies had abandoned him to his pleasure, and Kurt was well and truly alone.

"You and that _fucking_ kid of yours ruined my _life_!" Henry spat, hands tight on Kurt's shoulders, and Kurt, still dazed from the punch, left his arms hanging limply at his sides. "My father threatened to _disown_ me because of what you did, thinks I'm not responsible enough!"

Kurt managed to find his voice, at least, though his jaw twinged sharply as he moved it. "All I did was divorce your sorry ass," he said, breath beginning to become more labored as adrenaline spiked through him. "You're the one that decided drinking was more important than work or family."

Henry's face screwed up in rage, and this time Kurt expected the punch. It caught him around the ear, and his hearing went to a sharp ringing for several long seconds as he stayed slumped against the wall. He spat more blood onto the sidewalk and then waited, watching as Henry appeared to think for a moment, glancing around them before seeming to come to a decision. He grabbed Kurt by the shirt front, pulled him roughly from the wall, stepped to the side and then heaved Kurt past the building and into one of those narrow, dark alleys with the dumpsters at the ends.

"You think you're so fucking smart," Henry growled, tossing Kurt to the ground. "So fucking _smart_ , and _perfect_ ," he kicked Kurt in the stomach and then used his feet, still clad in the shiny oxfords he wore for the convention, to roll him along the filthy ground toward the back of the alley. Kurt's bag tangled up near his throat, but he couldn't find the strength to reach up and pull the straps from his neck. "Always an answer for everything." Another kick, more rolling, and then Kurt's body hit the metal of the dumpster.

"Answer me something, then, if you're so _smart_ ," Henry leered, crouching down in front of Kurt, threading his fingers into Kurt's hair and gripping, tugging Kurt's head up at a painful angle so that he was looking into Henry's eyes.

Henry paused a moment, just taking in Kurt's bruised and bloody face. "Answer me," he repeated, tightening his fist in Kurt's hair, his eyes narrowing into something dangerous that Kurt had never seen before, making him go cold all over. "Answer me: What am I going to do to you next?"

Before Kurt could even blink in reply, Henry slammed his head down into the pavement, and he immediately went unconscious.

* * *

He came to alone, moved to the side of the dumpster, between it and the facade of one of the buildings that formed the alley. His head pounded, but he could think clearly enough and didn't feel too nauseated, so he assumed he didn't have a concussion. Slowly he moved his arms and legs, noting all of his aches and pains, until he felt a fierce burn in his ass that caused him to freeze in shock, which quickly gave way to cold terror.

Carefully he rolled over and looked down to see his pants pulled up, but his belt and fly undone, the uncomfortable feeling of fluid leaking out of him to pool in his underwear and the pain in his anus unmistakably indicative of one thing.

Kurt closed his eyes, took three deep breaths, and then went about collecting himself from the pavement, finding his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket and his bag on the ground nearby, thankfully with its contents undisturbed. His hands shook as he unlocked his phone, noting it wasn't even ten yet- the whole ordeal had lasted less than half an hour, but Kurt felt as if he had aged decades. Smearing blood and grime over the screen, he quickly sent a text to Blaine asking if River could stay the night, making no attempt at excuses.

 _Blaine: Absolutely. Everything okay?_

Kurt groaned and fixed his pants, slinging his bag over his shoulder and moving toward the mouth of the alley. He didn't text back until he'd made his limping way to his car and was safely buckled in.

 _Kurt: Need to do something, and it might take a while._

 _Blaine: For the book? You should get some sleep!_

With a grimace at what he was about to do, and hating himself for half-lying to someone who has become a close friend over the last month and a half, Kurt sent one last text before he turned his phone off and pulled out of the garage.

 _Kurt: I need to get this done while it's still fresh in my mind. I'll call you in the morning._

Fifteen minutes later, Kurt parked in the brightly-lit lot of Massachusetts General Hospital and walked into the emergency room.

 **Part 3**

The next morning, Kurt uncurled himself from the corner of the couch where he'd spent the night and stood to stretch his stiff back. He hadn't slept at all, thanks to the pot of coffee he'd made when he got home from the hospital just after one in the morning, and shuffled into the kitchen to get more brewing for the day. As he watched the coffee percolate down into the carafe, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, unable to force from his mind thoughts of the previous night.

After he'd driven to the hospital, he'd walked into the emergency room and had a quiet conversation with one of the triage nurses, who sadly handed him a clipboard and told him she'd have a room all set up, nodding solemnly when he hesitantly requested a female doctor. They took his blood for immediate testing, though he'd have to get more done in a week to be sure he didn't have any of the more common sexually transmitted diseases, and swabbed samples of semen from his legs and rectum, taking several just to be sure it was all from just Henry. When he told them Henry had spat on his face, they swabbed his cheeks, too. Then a police officer came in and gently arranged him under the harsh clinic lighting to take pictures of his face, abdomen, and back, where the bruising was already showing angry and purple.

He was given a set of scrubs to wear when they bagged his clothing, and after he'd gotten dressed again a counselor came in and talked to him about HIV testing, whether Henry had it and what his risks of contracting it were. When Kurt explained that Henry was a promiscuous alcoholic, she advised him to begin post-exposure prophylaxis, which he accepted, and to get a rapid antigen combination test done first in one month, and then again two months after that to be sure he hadn't been infected.

Armed with pamphlets, a prescription he'd filled at the hospital pharmacy, and the knowledge that the DNA testing from the samples he gave would be given a slightly higher priority due to Henry's apparent police record, as the officer told him, Kurt got back in his car and drove home. As soon as he got through the door, he dumped his armload on the coffee table, went upstairs, stripped, and climbed into the shower with the water as hot as he could stand. He scrubbed himself red, and then sat in the spray until it went cold. Eventually he made it back downstairs, dressed in his comfiest pajamas and dragging a well-loved quilt from his childhood down the stairs, put on the coffee maker, and grabbed a few of his favorite movies to help him pass the night.

Before he'd settled down, though, he'd closed every blind and curtain around the house, double checked every window and door lock, and left all the downstairs lights on.

Now, in the light of the early morning, he took his fresh coffee upstairs, got dressed, and wondered if seven thirty was too early to call Blaine.

He called, anyway.

"Hey, you," came Blaine's voice. "Good timing. We're having breakfast."

Kurt nodded, and then cleared his throat. "Good. That's good," he said, his voice a bit scratchy. He'd talked for ages the night before, giving his statement, then didn't make a single sound for the rest of the night. His voice was a little wrecked. "When's a good time for me to pick up River?" he asked.

He heard Blaine shuffling around, and the clinking of silverware against plates in the background. "Whenever you're ready," he replied. "Though, I was thinking, you guys could stay for a movie? I'm not due at the hospital until eleven, so we could hang out for the morning?"

Kurt started shaking his head before Blaine had even finished speaking. "No, I can't," he said quickly, a little desperate. "We have… I have…. Work to do. Book things. I'm really behind, and with the new schedule..."

He fumbled with his coffee cup, his shaking hands uncooperative and clumsy.

The frown on Blaine's face was evident in his voice. "Oh. Okay, then. I'm sorry, I should have known."

"Don't be sorry," Kurt rushed out, sitting heavily on the corner of his bed. "It's not your fault."

"Alright. When will you be here, then?"

Kurt bit his thumbnail. "I was planning to leave now."

"We'll see you soon, then," Blaine said, some of his cheerful demeanor back in his tone.

"Yeah," Kurt said. "Soon."

* * *

When Blaine's front door opened, Kurt was surprised and confused at the shocked look on the other man's face, then quickly remembered that his cheek was bruised and a bit swollen, and he hadn't done a thing with his hair. He'd been avoiding mirrors since he'd gotten home, not needing the visual reminders.

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, forcing his way out the front door and onto the tiny porch, causing Kurt to take a few hasty steps backwards, almost slipping on the steps. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Kurt nodded quickly, brushing his fingers through his hair, suddenly incredibly embarrassed and ashamed to be seen so unkempt.

"I'm fine, Blaine," he said, "just had a little accident last night, that's all."

Blaine narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the bruise. "An accident?"

"Well," Kurt amended, unable to lie outright. He sighed and dropped his shoulders from their tense rise, wringing his hands together. "Can you promise me something?"

At that Blaine started, his face relaxing somewhat from its tense, worried expression. "Anything," he swore.

"Can you promise not to ask me about it until I'm ready to tell you?" Kurt begged, fingers twisting together. "Because I'm sure I will, but right now I just need my son, and I need to go home."

Blaine nodded slowly. "I understand," he said. "But can you promise me something, too?"

After a hesitant moment, Kurt nodded.

"Promise me that you will call me if you need _anything_. I won't ask questions, I won't pry, I won't judge. But if you need something- a friend, a babysitter, junk food, whatever- you call me and let me help you."

Kurt laughed, his eyes filling with tears for the first time since everything happened, and he agreed, following Blaine into the house.

* * *

It took a while to reassure River that he was fine, that the bruises were nothing and that everything was okay, and the boy eventually accepted the vague explanations and avoidances. Kurt felt much better having his son with him, and he was positive Henry had no idea where they lived, but he couldn't help but glance out the front windows every time he walked through the living room, or wander the ground floor every couple of hours, making sure all the locks were secure.

Over the next few days, though his paranoia calmed down somewhat, Kurt still had trouble sleeping more than a few hours at a time, and each time he woke up, he felt compelled to sneak down the hall to River's room and poke his head in the door, making sure the boy was still in his bed, sound asleep and unharmed. By Wednesday Kurt was having trouble focusing, and couldn't work for more than a few minutes without losing his train of thought entirely. Blaine noticed, of course, that morning as they sat together in the gym, Kurt's laptop open in front of him and his eyes continuously drifting from the screen to gaze vacantly off to the side.

"Kurt?" he whispered gently, reaching over to tap Kurt's hand where it rested on the keyboard.

Kurt startled, yanking his hands back and down into his lap, his eyes jerking up to Blaine's face. He furrowed his brow in question.

"Everything alright?" Blaine asked, noting Kurt's bloodshot eyes and pale pallor. "You seem really tired."

Nodding, Kurt closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. "Haven't been sleeping well," he admitted, opening his eyes again and replacing his hands on the keys of his laptop. "Got a lot of work to do, and none of it seems to be going right."

Blaine hummed, accepting the excuse for what it was, and let it go. "I'll be right back," he promised, before he stood and quickly left the gym, returning less than twenty minutes later with two more coffees.

"Thank you," Kurt accepted his cup gratefully, taking a few careful sips.

Blaine watched him with worry. "I wish you'd let me drive you home, but I have a feeling you'll refuse."

Kurt gave a wry smile and opened his mouth to do just that when he became suddenly dizzy and had to squeeze his eyes shut against the vertigo, bracing his hands on the edge of the table and digging his heels into the floor to ground himself. He heard Blaine move from his seat, and a moment later felt and warm hand on the back of his shoulder.

"Deep breaths," Blaine's voice commanded from Kurt's side. "In, two, three, four, and out, two, three. Good. Again."

A minute later and the dizziness had passed. Kurt opened his eyes to see Blaine kneeling next to him, one hand still on his shoulder, the other poised in front of Kurt as if to catch him should he collapse. Embarrassed, Kurt swallowed and loosened his grip on the table, avoiding Blaine's eyes as he spoke.

"I've been having nightmares," he admitted, though he avoided stating the precise cause of the nightmares. "I keep dreaming that Henry's come back to hurt me, or River, and I wake up and I have to go sit in his room to make sure he's okay."

The hand on his shoulder moved in a few gentle circles.

"I feel so helpless," Kurt breathed, "like I'm losing control of my life. Like no matter what I do I'm never going to be okay."

They sat in silence for several minutes, as Kurt composed himself and Blaine remained a steadfast, comforting presence at his side until Kurt felt he could breathe again and Blaine went back to his chair across the table.

"I know you feel like you have to do everything yourself," Blaine started, "but I also want you to know that I'm here for you. I know you said before that you wouldn't be comfortable staying with me and Jude for a few days until you feel better," Kurt shook his head quickly, opening his mouth to speak, but Blaine cut him off quickly, "and I respect that," he promised.

"I'm sorry," Kurt interjected. "It's so kind of you, really, but-"

Blaine held up a hand to stop Kurt from apologizing more. "I swear, it's fine," Blaine reiterated, holding Kurt's gaze. "I just want you to feel safe, and if you aren't feeling safe in your house, I wanted to offer the room again, even if you just come over for a few hours to take a damn nap. But if you really wouldn't be comfortable, Cooper has a spare room, too, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind you crashing there for a few days."

Kurt sat quietly, his head down and hands wringing together in front of him, the overwhelming urge to cry in frustration and anger and unfairness welling up inside him, pressing against the backs of his eyes. Finally, as the whistle blew and class was dismissed for the day, he looked up at Blaine and nodded.

"Are you sure?" Blaine asked, already half out of his seat to go inform Cooper that he'd be having houseguests.

Kurt nodded again, swallowing down the lump in his throat and blinking quickly as Jude and River ran over to them.

"Okay, I'll just go tell Coop-" but Blaine cut himself off as Kurt shook his head, standing to pack up his things into his bag while River and Jude put their shoes back on.

"I'd like to go to your house," Kurt whispered. "If that's okay?"

Blaine paused in his movements and smiled happily. "It's absolutely okay."

Kurt nodded again, more to himself than to Blaine, and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Hey, champ," he turned to River, who was waiting patiently for his father to get ready to leave. "We're going to go to the Andersons' for a little while. How does that sound?"

River beamed in excitement. "Great!"

Kurt smiled, too, glancing over at Blaine, who was kneeling in front of Jude, helping the little boy put his hearing aids in.

"Yeah. It's pretty great."

* * *

At Blaine's house, the boys were set up in front of the television with an animated film and some lunch while Blaine showed Kurt upstairs to the large guest room, leaving him with a pair of sweatpants and a soft black t-shirt. Kurt changed quickly, folded his clothes neatly onto an armchair near one of the windows, then pulled the blinds and curtains before nestling under the comforter and quickly falling asleep.

He slept for hours.

When he finally woke up, it was to the feeling of someone in bed with him. Unfrightened, Kurt smiled at the sensation of tiny toes tucked up against his stomach, and he opened his eyes to see River curled into a tight ball, facing him and sound asleep. With a yawn, Kurt tugged his son into his chest and breathed in the smell of someone else's shampoo in River's wavy auburn hair. After a few more minutes basking in the warmth and safety of the blankets and the presence of his son, Kurt gently crawled out of bed, tucked River in, and went downstairs.

"Hey," Blaine said softly as Kurt walked into the kitchen, looking for food. Blaine stood at the counter, fixing dinner.

"Can I help?" Kurt asked, already heading for the chopping board that held various vegetables he assumed needed to be cut up.

Blaine nodded. "If you'd like. I'm just throwing together a quick soup."

Kurt took up the knife that rested on the bench and started with the carrots. "Where's Jude?" he asked.

"In his room, reading," Blaine answered, pouring vegetable stock into a large pot and turning the heat on before moving to a large bowl that held risen dough covered by a damp towel. He turned the dough out onto the floured counter, placing the bowl in the sink.

"Thanks for letting us stay," Kurt said, swiping the chopped carrots into an empty bowl.

"How did you sleep?" Blaine asked, his sleeves pushed up and hands pressing into the resilient dough.

"Really well, thank you," Kurt said, smiling, moving onto the celery. "Though when I woke up, I had a bed mate."

Blaine laughed. "He got a little cranky and tired. I was going to have him sleep in Jude's room, but he wanted to be with you. I hope that's okay?"

"It's fine," Kurt assured him.

They worked quietly together, the kitchen radio playing soft jazz. When it switched to a commercial, Blaine cleared his throat.

"Will you be staying the night?" he asked, shaping the bread into small rolls and placing them onto a lined baking sheet, reaching over to quickly turn the oven on when he realized he'd forgotten to.

Kurt dumped the chopped carrots into the pot of simmering stock, then scraped the sliced celery from the board into the newly empty bowl. "Yes," he answered. "I'd like to."

Blaine grinned but said nothing, continuing to make the rolls until he was out of dough. He brushed a bit of oil over the top of each, then moved to the sink to clean a little while he waited for the oven to come to temperature.

With the both of them preparing dinner, it didn't take long before the house was filled with the smell of it, and two little boys were following their noses into the kitchen.

"Hey, monkey," Kurt said when he felt his son wrap his arms around his legs. He wiped his hands on a towel before hoisting River up and into his arms, who snuggled into Kurt's neck with a yawn. "Did you have a nice nap?"

River nodded, smiling, and Blaine smiled at them both as he instructed Jude to get out the bowls and spoons for the four of them, which he did happily, setting them out on the smaller table in the breakfast nook, rather than the larger table in the dining room.

"Soup's on," Blaine called out, turning off the stove and pulling the bread out of the oven. Kurt plopped River down into a chair before returning to grab the pot of soup while Blaine piled the rolls into a lined basket. They carried the food over and settled in to eat.

"I have to work tomorrow," Blaine commented after dinner, while the four sat in the living room watching a movie.

Kurt nodded absently, already tired again even though he'd napped earlier. "That's fine. We'll be out of your hair whenever you need."

Blaine smiled and shook his head in disbelief. "Why do you make it sound like I find it a hardship having you around?" he asked in good humor. "I was actually going to offer you run of the house for the day. Usually Jude will go with Cooper, but if you want to stay here with the boys, you can. Or you can go home, totally your choice."

Blinking slowly, Kurt turned to face him, his head lolling on the back of the couch. "I'd like that very much," he whispered.

Grinning, Blaine blushed and hoped he didn't look nearly so pleased as he felt. "Good. Maybe Jude can get your signing up to scratch while you're here, because goodness knows I'm not getting anywhere with you," he teased, bumping his shoulder lightly into Kurt's.

Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Maybe I need a teacher who isn't so easily distracted," he countered.

"Fine," Blaine said, standing up as the movie ended and shuffling over to the player to take the disc out. "I'll tell Jude to put you through your paces, though."

"I look forward to it," Kurt accepted, standing and stretching out the kinks in his back. He waved River over to himself. "I guess we'll get ready for bed, then."

Blaine quickly shelved the film case and turned to follow them upstairs, flicking off the lights as he went and reaching out to take Jude's hand. At the landing, Blaine paused.

"Goodnight, Kurt," he whispered. "I'm glad you decided to stay."

Kurt smiled softly, reached out and gave Blaine's arm a light squeeze. "Me too. Goodnight."

With that, Kurt took River into the guest room for what he hoped would be his first restful night in days.

* * *

Hours later, Kurt blinked up at the dark ceiling in the barely-familiar room and listened to the quiet sounds of the house around him- the air conditioning rattling through the vents, the hum of a small dehumidifier in the corner- unable to fall asleep. He turned his head on the pillow to look over at River, who slept peacefully on the other side of the large bed, tucked up under the fluffy duvet. Gently, Kurt ran his fingers lightly through River's hair, brushing it off his forehead, then sighed and softly rolled out of bed. He grabbed his phone and left the room, leaving the door cracked behind him in case River woke up, then tip-toed downstairs to the kitchen at the back of the house, only turning on the lights above the small breakfast table. Aware of the late hour, but too frazzled to let it deter him, Kurt pulled up a number on his phone and called it.

"Kurt?" the sleepy, annoyed voice of Wes came through the line, but not before Kurt heard much shuffling and groaning as his friend tried to wake up.

Taking a deep breath, Kurt said, "I need help."

Wes grunted, then cleared his throat, and Kurt heard the sound of him pulling the chain on the lamp by his bed. "What's up? Are you okay?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. I'm not."

Wes sucked in a breath, and Kurt heard him getting out of bed, presumably to go to his office. "Tell me what you need."

So Kurt told him everything that had happened the previous Friday, and how he hadn't been coping well since, and Wes just listened quietly as one of his best friends finally broke down and cried for the things that had been done to him. At the end of it Kurt sat there sniffling with the roll of paper towels next to him and several used sheets crumpled up on the table in front of him.

"What do I do?" he whispered, his voice cracking.

Wes cleared his throat, angry and upset, and Kurt heard him tapping away at his laptop. "I'm emailing you some information," he said roughly, quickly wiping at his eyes. "I know some good lawyers over there, in case you need one in a hurry and I can't get to you."

Kurt swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was twelve years old and that things got way too grown-up way too fast.

Wes continued. "I'm also sending you instructions on how to file a restraining order. You're going to go to the courthouse as soon as you can and fill out the forms, which will grant you a temporary order against him. You'll have to do a full hearing eventually, but if he's already in the system, and under active investigation, I don't foresee too many problems."

Kurt nodded along, overwhelmed and scared. "Wes…" he said, but he didn't really have anything to say.

"I know," Wes said softly. He paused, then, "Have you told your dad? Or Blaine?"

"No," Kurt said, closing his eyes and rubbing at his forehead with the fingers of his free hand. "I will, I just...I need it to be okay, first."

Wes felt like crying. "Kurt," he breathed. "They can help you be okay."

"I know," Kurt said, his throat tightening again. "I know, but I need to feel like I have this under control, first. I need to feel like something's being done, before more people get involved."

Wes nodded, though he didn't like it. "I guess I can respect that. But if anything gets too much, you know I'm always here for you."

"I know," Kurt agreed, finally smiling a little. "I wish I didn't have to go so far. I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Wes said. "And hey, now that both of my best friends are in the same city, maybe it's time I relocated, too."

Kurt's jaw dropped, his problems momentarily at the back of his mind. "You'd move all the way out here? What about your family?"

Wes laughed gently. "Kurt, you _are_ my family. You and Blaine, and your progeny. How can I be 'Uncle Wes' all the way over here in Ohio? Besides, you know I was never really close with my parents, and my sister lives in London, anyway. I've actually been looking into it ever since you left."

Kurt grinned, happy tears running down his cheeks. "We'd love having you closer," he admitted.

"Then I guess I'm moving to Boston," Wes decided, and in his heart, he felt content. They sat in silence for a long moment, then Wes spoke, "Do you feel any better?"

Kurt closed his eyes, his burdens coming back to occupy his thoughts, but they seemed somewhat less heavy. "I do. Thank you."

"Any time. You should try to get some sleep."

"I will," Kurt said, already yawning, moving to pick up his trash and replace the paper towels on the counter. "Goodnight, Wes."

"Goodnight, Kurt."

When Kurt made it back upstairs and snuggled into bed with his son, he felt better for having a plan to fill the time before the DNA they took from him came back from the police. He also had a lovely new distraction in the form of his best friend moving to Boston, and he wondered if he might be able to convince his father to do the same. With a sigh, Kurt curled himself around River, pulled the duvet up around both their shoulders, and closed his eyes, falling asleep in just a few minutes.


End file.
